Of Pirate Lore
by Sapphyr Black
Summary: Father will you tell me a story?" Young William inquires about pirates one night before bed . . .A one shot type thing. Please RR


Of Pirate Lore  
  
"Father, will you tell me a story?" came the wondering child voice of an innocent six year old.  
  
The flame of the candle atop the wooden bedside table flickered back and forth dancing in the wind of the open window. Warm summer air flowed freely through the brick walls of the small house, gently blowing the fire in every direction. The velvet dark night sky blanketed the entire English town as diamonds shone gallantly through the covers of misty clouds.  
  
"But o' course child. What would ye like to be hearin' about?" Questioned the young Bootstrap. He looked nearly thirty, but his tan skin aged him quite well. His dark brown hair was laced with slight traces of gray as he made his way over from the doorway to the side of his child's bed.  
  
Little William Turner pushed the covers off from his boyish chest and down to his knicker-covered hips. Using his arm strength, he heaved himself up and scooted until his back was against the headboard of his wooden bed. His eyes twinkled in the light of the candle and they grew with a thought that would amaze any child.  
  
"I want to hear a story about pirates." He stated with wonderment, stressing the word 'pirates'.  
  
"Pirates my boy?" His father repeated as he opened his eyes wider to the odd request.  
  
"Yes father, I want to hear about pirates. Alexander told me they were ruthless, good for nothing bad guys," Will said, a slight lisp to his words after having lost a front tooth the day before. He felt the urge to jump up and begin to swordfight, pretending to be a pirate. He had heard nothing good about them, but he was lucky to have never had a run in with any of them.  
  
Bill couldn't help but chuckle at the enthusiasm of his son. He smoothed out a section at the foot of Will's bed with his palm before seating himself down causing the bed to sink rather slightly.  
  
"Alright I'll tell ye about pirates." He sighed with a smile as thoughts flooded his mind about what to tell his son about these scoundrels known as pirates. He couldn't tell tales too graphic for a child and yet he could not mention anything truly gallant about these thieves of the high waters. Sadly, he couldn't even confide in his own child that he had been lying about his true occupation. No, he had not been a merchant sailor out doing good deeds for the queen. His true home away from home was the Pearl, the Black Pearl to be exact and he was a member of a crew that was under the best direction.  
  
Bootstrap shook his head, shaking the thoughts out from his troubled mind and placed it in the mindset he usually had when he laid his child down to sleep, preparing him for a good story.  
  
"Well child, pirates aren't exactly angels. Most usually came from a past of being advisors to the queen and were sick of the system." He figured the best way to start a story, was to start at the very beginning. He didn't want his son to lead a life of crime, he wanted pirates to sound like horrible, despicable creatures rose up from hell itself.  
  
"They are violent, womanizing men who have no heart or conscience at all. They drink, they pillage and plunder and they just don't give a hoot. I saw one once on a charter across the sea."  
  
"You actually saw one father?" Will's eyes widened as his mouth dropped open as if it were a drawbridge.  
  
Bill nodded his head feverishly as he narrowed his eyes gazing straight into his son's large brown eyes.  
  
"Oh yes and not just one, an entire ship of 'em. Dirty vermin the lot of 'em. I dared myself to catch a glimpse of one who had his cutlass, stained with blood, raised high with the sun beaming off of the metal landing in a red pool on my deck. His lips curled as a snarl came at me as he tossed his head back taking a huge swig o' rum." Bill raised his arm up high above his head tightening his fist as if he were truly holding a sword in his grasp. He pantomimed a pirate's face before throwing his head back and creating a large gulping sound his throat.  
  
He wasn't truly lying about the story either, he recalled it from one of his numerous adventures under captain Sparrow's watch. Of course Sparrow was never truly menacing, his first mate certainly was, but it was true that Jack's sword was stained with blood and he did take a rather large swig of rum. There was, however, a burning ship parallel to the Pearl instead of a merchant vessel, but he certainly wasn't going to mention that to his child.  
  
"Do they sword fight? Do they burn houses down?" Will questioned leaning forward on every inquiry. His curly dark brown hair fell into his face as he blinked his eyes attempting to ride them of rogue strays.  
  
"Of course they sword fight, what pirate wouldn't if he had a sword on him? Burn houses down? My dear boy, they burn villages down within a night's time. There's even a pirate haven, an island designed with pirates in mind."  
  
"What is it named? Have you ever been there?" the boy prodded some more, his mind racing with questions as he felt his heart beat faster as fear set in.  
  
"No, I've never been there," Bootstrap lied, "Tortuga, a small greasy island just south of the Spanish Main."  
  
"Father, will pirates ever come here? Will they kill me?" Will felt a lump in his throat form as he attempted to force it down with a loud gulp.  
  
"I doubt they would come 'ere unless this place has something to their liking. Now about killing ye, I would never let it happen. They wouldn't harm a hair on yer head if I was around, they would have to go through me and they wouldn't make it because the love I have for ye and yer mother would not fail." His eyes narrowed at the thought. He would never let any pirate lay a finger, let alone a hand, on his only child. Not for the amount of gold, silver and doubloons in the world. And as long as Jack was captain not a hair on his head would even be thought of being touched.  
  
"Do pirates really have peg-legs and eye patches and hooks for hands?" The boy's curiosity took total control and pushed his body forward, his young back arching as every spinal piece shifted.  
  
Bill chuckled at the boy's question and shook his head, "No my child, there are no peg-legs or hooks for hands. There is the occasional eye patch here and there, but nothing absurd like that. Pirates lose limbs in battle: hands, arms, legs and such, but there's nothing left but a round bloody stump. One pirate lost his tongue and some pirates even lose their eyes and are left with nothing but a bloody empty socket."  
  
Will gasped at the mental image in his head, it was ghastly. "I never want to meet a pirate father, ever!" He declared as he straightened up his back and shuffled his shoulders back and forth. "If I ever meet a pirate then I will kill it!"  
  
Bill just nodded and patted his child strongly on his back before pushing off from the bed, "I believe that's enough for now."  
  
"Will you tell me another story tomorrow night?" Will questioned innocently as if his heart were breaking.  
  
"I can't child, I'm going away on business for quite some time, I don't know when I'll be back." Bootstrap sighed. Truth be told, he didn't know when he'd be back, but he certainly wasn't going away on a merchant trip. Jack had this crazy idea about finding this obscure island that no one knew about except for him and once there they would find the infamous Aztec Gold. Of course Jack was always a little out of it, but Bootstrap had faith in him.  
  
"Is there anything else that you can tell me about pirates?" Will inquired with innocent curiosity.  
  
"Well besides burning down towns and homes, there's the story about the cursed treasure of Isla de Muerta." Bootstrap lowered his voice to a near growl as he said the name of the island. Will's eyes grew large and round and he shook his head.  
  
"Can you tell me that story another time?" The boy squeaked as his knuckles turned white from clutching on to the edge of the blanket so tightly. All Bill did was nod his head and give his son a small childish smile that gave Will comfort enough to release his hold on the blanket and drift down onto his pillow.  
  
"Good night William," He said softly as he watched the boy curl up into his sheets, tucking the sides in around him. Will's soft brown curls fanned out around his head as his eyes followed his father.  
  
"Good night father." Will whispered as he carefully watched his father blow out the dancing flame next to his bed and with that he shut his eyes. 


End file.
